


West

by ioucos



Category: Hyper Light Drifter
Genre: simultaneously Is and Is Not hld, this is written like it's a painting in word form lmfao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 03:13:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18002732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ioucos/pseuds/ioucos
Summary: Flowing in, flowing out, everything was still and yet active, all at once. And beneath it all, an almost-imperceivable hum.





	West

**Author's Note:**

> okay this was originally intended to be like. a work for class richly describing a physical location of our choice but. the second i ended up face-to-face with my word document, my brain screamed "west" so here i am.
> 
> this is at least hEAVILY INSPIRED by hld but like. its also simultaneously Not HLD Sort Of, its in a weird limbo state because on one hand it directly references the game but on the other i spuriously make things up on the spot and also there are chinese characters instead of the Actual Ingame Alphabet for some reason.
> 
> my intention here was to paint a scene in relatively few words that the reader could immerse themselves in, picture, and enjoy, so feel free to do that!!

Leaves rustled as wind circulated like a drawn breath throughout the hilly forest. Flowing in, flowing out, everything was still and yet active, all at once. The quiet trickle of a nearby stream gave a whiff of ambiance to the mystical scene, so touched by vivid color. Leaves the color of rich wine, soft grasses of deep blue, glinting crystal of sea-green — they made a scene of technicolor life. And beneath it all, an almost-imperceivable hum.

The forest was still. Suspended in its clear beauty, as if drenched in a musky yet alluring perfume, nothing disturbed it. It _lived_ , lighted only by the splintered radiance of this world’s dying, broken sun. The celestial sphere was a cracked record of light, oranges and yellows both. A remnant of a former time. Nonetheless, in spite of all this, the forest continued on. It was pure, rich, so profoundly existent — it sung with the heat of a flame warming the hands.

The forest was active. Gentle, mild breezes, the padding of rabbits and raccoons and all manner of creatures, the bubbling of little streams here and there; ever-present, these sounds of life pervaded the woods. In smaller concentration were the occasional crackle from the barrel-fires of camping dirks, and the thump-thump-thumps of the feet of the myriad guards ruling _in absentia_ of the crystallized lord of the temple-fortress complex to the far northwestern regions. But those footfalls were removed from the core of the woods. Distant, faint, they did not encroach upon the deepest depths of the wine-hued trees in any way that mattered.

The high hills and their jagged, steep, _sudden_ peaks crowned by trees and grass the same as the rest of the forest spiced up the land. Above and below, the life was shared; only elevation changed. Navigation made difficult by the interweaving masses of tree, hill, and edge, one could wander for hours. The crystal of sea-green creeped and receded seemingly with a mind of its own, another remnant the same as the sun. Sometimes their insides were clear and transparent, other times they were murky and full — one might be able to make a figure out within. Immortality of the living gem. Yes, indeed: life was still and yet active in these woods.

And above it all, the place was _above_ it all. The quiet hum of neon-lit metal-plated regular power stations across the various chunks of the forest, fueled as they were by tubes of something bright and plasmic and indescribable, permeated the otherwise organic airs of the forest. With their aid, the entire forest hung above the war-torn earth it had once resided within before, ravaged by gouges and chasms and _wounds_ of broken flesh; the earth below and the forest above were free of each other. Nonetheless, the forest, extending east, descended as well, connected by repulsorlift and by precipitous jump to the lower regions.

Near the forest’s core upon a steep and narrow hill, denoted on its front by a 無 in neon magenta, sat a squat and seemingly-small building. It was a mix of power station and temple both. Though its innards and their simultaneous articles and array of laboratory crystal-growing apparatus and icons of fivefold animalistic worship extended deep into the hill itself, the visible floor was simple and plain. Incense burned within, its scent diffusing out into the outside forest via little holes in the dark metallic window-panels. There was a deep hum at the heart of the building as a repulsorlift rose up from the deeper levels up to the surface, stopping at the top floor with a mechanical click.

A figure crowned by metal and robed in an earthy yellow with tinges of red emerged from the temple-laboratory, the wide doors creaking open with a slight whirr of machinery. The musky heat of the building within intermingled with the more gentle warmth of the outside forest pleasantly. Blinking, the being looked down to their hands — pulpy, laboratory-grown blue-green flesh was their defining characteristic. An array of cybernetic implants were integrated with the otherwise organic being’s form; their dark gray metal and bright cyanic glow seemed to weave together with the flesh itself to create a whole. The being sighed.

Overlooking the forest, the being observed the life that inhabited it with the eye of one on watch; open, and yet searching. Reds and purples and maroons and dusky blues pooled together in the sky overhead. The crunching footsteps of something even deeper within the forest, of size, magnitude, and implication beyond that of even the power system itself, could occasionally be heard. From the height of the temple’s hill, one could see the twinkling lights of a city on the ground below in the far east, more undamaged by war than what lay directly below. Passively drinking in the sights, the being sighed again; this time, it was a different kind of sound. Even so tortured by age and war and the tests of time, the world was so beautiful and warm.

The being turned back in, and shut the doors with a click.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed if you stuck around!! sorry this isnt like. Really HLD-y


End file.
